


One Red Star, Two Red Eyes

by Kyu_Momo



Series: Memoria-Verse [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Avengers, BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Tony, Dark, Demons Are Assholes, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Crack, Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Monsters, Other Worlds, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Realm Hopping, Supernatural Elements, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyu_Momo/pseuds/Kyu_Momo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Tony meets the Winter Soldier in Memoria. Tony is not amused.<br/>Memoria-Verse. yet another branch off. Probably won't make much sense unless you read Memoria first. Explaining stuff is hard!<br/>As always, I still suck at Grammar. Fair warning! :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Potrix for THIS fic too. Just because I can.
> 
> Re-posted on request.  
> As such, sorry, but don't expect updates anytime soon. I'm slow and lazy. :(

 

Tony had been three-years old when it had first happened to him.

Mommy had been there, holding him. It was noisy and there were lots of people and the noise was becoming as uncomfortable as the flashing lights had been.  Daddy didn’t want to be bothered. Mommy didn’t want to be either.

“Be quiet! Damned brat!” Mommy hissed at him and raised her hand but then stopped as abruptly as the motion of it had started. She was shaking a bit as she leaned down and sat him on the floor. Maria Stark had finally remembered where she was and what she had been about to do, in public. Publicity was not good. “Look, just... Stay put for a bit, okay?  Mommy will be right back.”

Tony wandered instead, away from the noise and discomfort and flashing lights.

Suddenly it was all gone and everything was dark and he was being squeezed and held still.  _Too still_  even though he squirmed and fought the dark hands. It was so dark and he couldn’t see anyone and he was scared!

The sudden pain could not be endured.

“Hurt...!  Hurt!  No hurt!  No hurt, Mommy!  Daddy!  No hurt!!”

Except his parents weren’t even there to stop hurting him this time.  It kept right on hurting.

Roaring, screeching, chirps, chittering, chimes, and bells. Red eyes all around. Horrible, scary, faces...

And then, suddenly, Little Tony was screaming and bawling into black leather, and Tony could actually tell it was  _black_  leather because there were lights flashing bright enough for him to see that all of a sudden. The man holding him wasn’t Mommy or Daddy... That made sense because the man didn’t even bother to tell Tony to be quiet. He was moving so fast, and Tony had to struggle to hold onto him so as to not fall off but he didn’t know that the man wouldn’t have dropped him.  It was scary and the faces were still there trying to hurt him but the man was hurting  _them_  instead. The faces and arms were being torn apart and mangled by bullets and a knife and  _shiny arm_  with a red star on it, all while holding a sobbing three-year-old boy.

**_We WILL have you! Resist us, not!_ **

The voice pealed like a pretty chime but at the same time it was rumbling,  guttural, and unnatural. It was so insanely loud with  _rage_  that Tony felt pain in his ears and his sobbing began anew.

“Hmph,” The man with the-shiny-white-arm-with-the-red-star on it let out a huff.

The thing was terrifying and enormous.  The red eyes were everywhere.  Something scary collided with the man and Tony went tumbling from his arms, landing painfully, and whimpering in terror on the wet, splotchy and pulsing-black-flesh of the ‘ground’.

“No.. No! Go away!”  Black hands that he could see now, were desperately grabbing for Tony and he scampered away from them as best he could even as they roared at him in rage. “No... Shiny arm... Red star... No!” An enormous hand got hold of his ankle and twisted it. Tony screamed and fought the hand as best as little hands could, turning himself and smacking at the wrinkled appendage with fists and stubborn effort as he was dragged. “Red star!  _Red Star_!”

**_You WILL know your place!  You are mere sustenance!_ **

Something tore into the hand with enough force that it completely severed it from the thing’s arm and the rest of its hand was  _obliterated_   and then Tony was scooped up again by strong arms.

**_Such arrogance!  Impudence!  Disgusting mortals!  Resist us, NOT!_ **

Tony’s vision kept doing circles, and twists, and upside down’s as Red Star maneuvered gracefully away from attacks and attacked in turn, keeping the thing and its spawn at bay indefinitely.

The chime-y voice was screaming at them now, roaring, enraged at its own wounds, the darkness of the other world was quaking and shattering, literally.  Vein-y glass shards were breaking off, falling, shattering, and revealing bits of reality through the holes.  Chime was nearing death and thus the catalyst that kept the realm in place was crumbling, unable to regrow due to its sudden lack-of-strength.

**We will be as one!  You have not won yet! FILTH! Abominations! MINE!**

And suddenly the enormous mass was closing in on them, circling around them and trapping them, squeezing itself all around them until they were to be crushed by its girth. Red Star was fast but not fast enough, for the creature’s body was all encompassing, filling every nook and cranny of this false dimension, and so even with his speed Red Star was eventually closed in on by the mass of writhing body and hands. There wasn’t even enough air left for screaming and all that was left was to feel.  The pain could not even begin to be described.  Terror was all encompassing and inescapable.

Death was sure to follow.

**WE WILL BE AS ONE!**

The aftermath of the explosion meant to end them all was not heard, so much as,  _felt_.

 

* * *

 

 

Upon the return to consciousness, The Asset tried to move, but quickly failed. Weakness was unacceptable. All except swift elimination of The Asset’s target and swift ‘return, report’ was acceptable. And so this was unacceptable, but the body was in agony and could not be moved... the body was mending too slow. Time was lost. Confusion was not allowed for the mission was to be first priority. But confusion and pain were all the Asset had. Had the mission been completed? Failure was not tolerated.

The Asset saw it then. The reflex to attack was instantaneous but the attack did not come, because the Asset’s body could not move. The winged-entity hovering over him blinked at the Asset, unimpressed at the attempt to attack it, annoyed, impatient.

**_Well? Are you going to move sometime this week... or do I have to do that for you?_ **

It was not a language he was familiar with, yet the Asset still understood the meaning, the Asset understood  _that_ , but did not understand what  _that_ meant, exactly, because  _that_ could not possibly be significant. All details, except the details of his current ‘target’ and ‘mission,’ were unimportant.

**_Oh for... Swearing at me in Russian is not going to make me go away.  YOU, summoned ME, asshole.The least you could do is tell me what you want so I can go back to my own world. What do you mean that is unacceptable?! You can’t just summon me for nothing! To hell with you! I’m out of here!_ **

_The Asset’s body was hot, and in slightly-less pain, but still unable to lift itself. The alleyway was too open, too unsafe, but thankfully still devoid of witnesses.  This was unacceptable and the Asset needed to be able to move, immediately. A name came to his mind. Not the same name as the last entity. There were so many names to choose from.  The Asset was just the Asset. The Asset did not need a name. So why did he know all of these names all of a sudden? The asset picked one name out of the millions of names and thought it should appear.  The Asset did not understand why._

Another being appeared. Confusion spiraled and pulled at thoughts that should not be surfacing. The instinct to attack was met with an actual attack this time, for the Asset’s body was able to lift and move itself once more.  The floating entity shrugged off the attack,  gently caught the limp Child that the Asset’s movement had dislodged from his chest in one armored, enormous hand, and then proceeded to subdue the asset as if the effort of  _that_  were nothing. The floating, armored creature’s eyes were awash with intellect and emotion and so The Asset realized that The Asset’s attack on the creature had not offended it. The other entity had been offended.

**A cute little babe... Ah, and with injuries...**

The entity tsked.

**_Have you summoned me to care for it?_ **

The entity tsked at the Asset again.

**_I do not appreciate such language, especially when uttered near one so young... There now, little one.  All will be well._ **

_The entity frowned._

**_Have you no manners? Of course that is not the case. Why, it is the opposite, in fact! Caring for one so young is ALWAYS an acceptable mission. So, too, is caring for my current summoner, though as loathe am I to admit it to one so rude, you are indeed worthy to summon me for your power is great. Ah! Such language! Naughty!_ **

The Asset struggled to free itself from invisible bonds, anger and rage blinding it. Witnesses were to be dispatched!

**Hmph. Fine.  You seem to be of a recovered state of health, but still not at peak, so allow me to---ah!  How vulgar! Fine! Be that way.  I will take this babe away where he aught to be, for surely  the little one can not be safe here with one such as YOU. Pray, do not summon me again. I do not much like your attitude.**

The entity and child were gone, just like that, and the Asset was free to move.

Names continued to swirl within. Knowledge that he should not repeat them to lesser mortals nor ever mention their existence. They could not even be seen or heard by lesser mortals after all, but still, such were the rules. The Asset felt confusion at The Asset’s own firm acceptance that discretion was, indeed, needed, acceptable and also was part of the contract. The asset might die if the contract were ever to be severely broken and that was acceptable, for the rules were few but of GREAT importance, but also unacceptable because the Asset was currently on a mission. The Asset could not fulfill its mission if death occurred. And therefore death was not an option. Breaking the terms of the contract was also not an option. And therefore, the terms of the contract must be kept sacred.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony had been nine-years old when it had happened again.

Had he been any other child except, well,  _himself_ than surely Tony wouldn’t have survived the first moments of the experience for as long as he had.

 

For Anthony Edward Stark was not like other children.  _A Stark_ , kept firmly under heel, meant that he was a child still  _young enough_  to be completely overwhelmed and terrified out of his wits, but at the same time,  _old enough_ to know that both weakness and panic were unacceptable things to show and that  _telling lies,_ no matter how true they seemed to be at the time _, is worthy of punishment and ridicule, if not outright being beat to death..._

 

With that in mind, Tony hadn’t completely lost control of himself until hands-in-the-dark had held him down, and pain unlike anything he had ever felt before, much less thought possible, was suddenly coursing through his small body.

 

School had let out by then and Maria and Howard Stark had forgotten to come and pick him up. All the other kids had parents that cared, and so Tony had nothing better to do but stand there and watch their Parent/Child exchanges with silent envy.  Jarvis never showed up either and Tony had gradually become upset over the hours of waiting and waiting for him, them, anyone...

 

The weather was suddenly becoming dark and stormy. Tony was finally fed up and stubbornly on his way home by the time the rain had begun in earnest and he was suddenly regretting not going back into the school and asking the adults for help. The grass on the sidewalk became soggy and muddy and tall and wet at different times as he trudged along gloomily. He watched the rivers on the pavement as he walked. The streams of clear liquid joined, tangled, and flooded down, down,  _down_ the roads to pool at each drain... Tony was becoming alarmed at how much water and wind was happening around him all of a sudden. It was becoming very hard to walk straight and the water was almost up past the sidewalk...

 

The cold was becoming thick and Tony’s breath came out in visible puffs soon after he realized that the cold, wet, misery all around him, was actually getting  _worse_. The sounds were gradual at first; the veins of black were too. Tony hadn’t even noticed at first because the wind was howling and almost drowning out all other sound...  But suddenly the sounds were too loud and too visible to ignore and were drowning out the actual  _storm’s_ loudness. The sounds and the sudden veins skittering around him reminded Tony of “Etch A Sketch.”

 

The sounds were scritchy-scratchy, very loud, and noisy. Those sounds boomed out and echoed after every vein suddenly appeared. The dark veins were being sketched, woven, and tangled all around him faster and faster... And each sound that accompanied each vein was quickly becoming so jarring, and so painful-to-hear, that Tony had begun to startle and jerk on reflex at every new horrible addition to his senses.

 

_Run. **Run!**_

 

“Common sense” was battling “ _fight-or-flight_  response.” It was all happening too fast for _words, too fast f_ or even the child-Stark’s _thoughts_  to make sense of; they were so rapidly derailing...

The “Etch A Sketch” lines were spreading too fast. Trees, telephone poles, parked cars, parked trucks, houses, sidewalks, water, rain, wind, light, _reality..._  it was  _all_ being blotted out by the uneven, squelching and black-throbbing- _veins_! Even the rare sight of adults that had run by him, back the way Tony had come to escape for higher ground, were being covered by the veins as if they didn’t exist.  Reality, everything the young Stark’s brain accepted as comfortable and safe, and touchable... It was all suddenly being  _smothered_. The veins were even coiling and cracking through  _mid-air_ , as if gravity did not exist, and so the air didn’t exist either, and Tony wasn’t as smart as his Father yet, but even  _he_  knew the importance and the inescapable rules of gravity.

_Am I even_ allowed _to run?!  Dad will get mad at me if I do, won’t he?!_

No!  Tony needed to stay away from veins!  He needed to stay in reality! Water was suddenly lapping at his waist and panic was setting in because, ‘ _I’ll drown if I have to go any further to get away from it_!’, and it was as if, impossibly, the vein _-y-pulsing-heartbeat-of-blackness_ , _**also knew**  _that Tony would drown if he went further that way, because suddenly there was an _ear-splitting roar, and a clawed-spindly-black-limb was swiping from the vein suddenly existing right there in front of him, and Tony_ found himself scrambling _away_ from the claws and the-thing-that-had- _roared-at-_ him, and  _backward_  into the spreading darkness of un-reality that he had been trying to escape from.

 

The light had been completely obliterated and The sudden shock of pure darkness quickly had Tony stumbling, panicking, falling hard to the ground... His sense of sight may have been stolen from him at that moment, but his hearing was still working perfectly.  He could hear  _things_. Things that could not possibly be really near him right now.

 

Growls. Clicking. Claws scraping. Loud and booming steps. Roars. Hissing. It was all around him now and they were getting closer to him.

 

No he would _not_  cry.

There had to be a rational explanation for this. Science had never lied to him before.  _Adults_  were the ones who always lied...

 

There was no warning. Clawed-hands dug in, grabbed at him, some too large to even be possible, and held him down. Excruciating  _Pain_ ripped through him soon after and all traces of his remaining calm fled in a blink. He tried to escape the pain,  _desperately,_  but they held him still. He tried so hard!  He had to get away but no matter how  _much_  he tried to he couldn’t escape them! They were too strong and held him perfectly still.  The tears could not come fast enough and Tony screamed and cried and writhed in agony.  It was simply not something that could be endured. Tony couldn’t even begin to describe it even if all rational thought hadn’t fled moments ago.  _Unbearable!_

Whatever these things were, they were merciless and ignored the begging.  Tony screamed and screamed until he was hoarse and rapidly losing sanity because it was too much agony and too horrible and he couldn’t even  _move an inch_! He was helpess! All he could do was lie there and  _take_  it as they laughed and fed on his pain. It came faster and faster until he knew he couldn’t _possibly_  bear another second of this Hell... when suddenly he was let go. He couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t see anything. His body was still in agony but it was nowhere near as unbearable as it had been. Tony was left alone to sob brokenly, curled up in a ball on the ground, absolutely terrified. What was going on?!

 

Unconsciousness had followed quickly.

 

Some indiscernible amount of time later, Tony had been shaken awake.  Tony whimpered and begged them to stop but he couldn’t even speak. His throat hurt too much.

 It didn’t matter what his Dad thought anymore... He must have died somehow and gone to Hell!  Howard was always quick to point it out, and now it had come true, Tony was going to go to hell. Tony  _was_ in Hell! Who cares if he cried? No one was coming for him. These guys weren’t kidnappers. There weren’t any questions. Just pain... They wanted to hurt him and never let him go.

 

Tony was getting weaker by the second.  He realized in that moment that he was actually, honest to God,  _dying._ He was being shaken again, they were lifting him,  _gently_. Tony whimpered and cried. Something was nudged to his lips. Tony shrieked and cried more. What was going on?  He wanted to go home!

 

 

The booming voice startled him so much that he must have fainted.

Again, he was shaken awake. More urgent this time, by the feel of it...

 

**_Drink!_ **

 

Against his better judgement, Tony obliged. It’s not like he had much choice... He couldn’t even move his head  _slightly away_ from the strong hand that was holding his head in place.

The liquid was cool, refreshing, and soothing. The pain immediately melted away and Tony heard himself sob with desperate relief. Something solid was placed in his mouth soon after and Tony’s first instinct was to spit it out. They held his mouth open and forced whatever it was back inside his mouth. Tony’s teeth were chattering so violently another hand was suddenly under his chin and keeping the solid thing in his mouth. The various other hands were holding him firmly in place.

 

**_Chew. Swallow._ **

 

Tony was terrified.   _What is this thing in my mouth?_ But he was more scared of the pain. Even thinking of  _that pain_  was too much to bear.

So he obeyed.  Or at least he tried to. He couldn’t. His jaw was too weak and he didn’t have the strength to even so much as dent whatever was in his mouth. Tony cried and trembled as it was plucked roughly from his mouth.

 

_Please don’t hurt me... I tried... Please don’t..._

Tony jerked at the sudden burst of noise in front of him. Crunching. Grinding. And then his head was being titled back.

 

The mouth that met his felt like rubber and somehow it also felt stiff, but flaky. The mouth was huge, most of it was resting on Tony’s tummy. The sensation was so alien that Tony had to fight back bile even before the chewed up solids were nudged into his mouth, bit by bit. Thankfully it was tasteless, but the slimy, chunky texture of it still made further bile rise to Tony’s throat as he forced himself to swallow it all. Tony fought to keep from throwing it up and having to go through that all over again.

_Please.... No pain.. Please..._

 

There wasn’t any. They left him alone. They left him alone for a long time after that. Unconsciousness came and went. Sanity slipped and clung and slipped again. Food and water were never in short supply. 

It was only when the next time came when Tony realized that they were keeping him alive just to hurt him.

 

He felt all the hands pushing him down and holding him still.

 

“No!  No, no, no  _please don’t_!”

 

Tony could  _not_ endure it. Tony was terrified of that horrible, _unbearable_  pain and now he was remembering  _why_.  He could  _not_ handle this.  He begged and pleaded for them to stop but they only laughed at him. This was not something that could be endured.

 

It lasted until he was near death.

They nursed him back to health.

That cycle repeated.

 

Over and over and over again. So many times that Tony had lost count and staying sane was a pipe dream.

 

Time ceased to have meaning.

 

“Kill me...  _please_... just  **kill _me already_!”**

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He wasn’t sure when it had happened. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed or how much of  _that_   _pain_  he had been forced to endure, as much as a small human body could endure it, which they couldn’t... But time had long since become a concept that Tony wasn’t sure he understood anymore.  Tony wasn’t sure if he was sane.  What was reality? What was sanity?  It was at that point when it had happened.

 

Something long buried within him had activated. Something had been switched “on”.

 

He wasn’t sure what. At this point he had no idea what any of this even was. All he clung to was his own name. Science too, because of course. Something so interesting could never be forgotten.  They could not take those two things from him.

But something that had been latent since that moment, back then, when he had been three-years-old ,was suddenly switched from “off” to “on”.

 

The hands were grabbing him. He was being pinned.

 

_No! No please, **don’t!**   No more!  **I can’t take anymore!**_

But then another thought was suddenly there just as quickly as the first.

 

_They have veins. They have blood. There are beating hearts in those things. Life, their existence, will cease once the limbs are cut and the hearts are ripped out. Quickly. They regenerate quickly.The order of limbs is irrelevant as long as enough of them are severed and the hearts are removed fast enough before complete regeneration can occur. Incredible strength is usually needed, but you have both the knowledge **and** the power for that now. These things can be **forced to die. KILL THEM ALL!**_

_“Get the fuck off me!”_

 

Limbs were ripped off, blood was forced to explode outward from resisting layers of thick skin, deaths were meted out one by one with brutal efficiency. They never showed  _him_  mercy and in so doing these freaks deserved  _none in return_!

It was  _wonderful_ , really, all of the high-pitched  _squealing_  from the freaks that had been his tormentors for the last year and a half, as they were butchered like helpless cattle... It was nothing short of  _therapeutic bliss._

 

The darkness cracked, reality returned, and Tony was vaguely aware that he was covered in sluggishly-healing wounds and blood. Most of the blood had been  _theirs_. Tony was still laughing hysterically from the thought of that fact by the time that the adults had  _finally_  come for him and he was sped off to a hospital. Upon further collection of data, Tony had no choice but to conclude that his Parents were actually incompetent  _idiots,_ and Tony had been close to dying when the flooding had gotten too high. Because of their disgusting negligence.

 

And wasn’t that just an adorable thought? The fucking abominations that had tortured him for a year and a half had been  _more concerned_  with his health than  _his own parents had been_.

 

Sanity had long since left him. Intelligence was going stronger than ever before despite that. Tony hadn’t needed to be _sane_  to be able to  _think in coherent, scientific facts, after all._   Cold-hard-facts were amzing... Science. It was all that had kept him company. He didn’t need anything else.

Knowledge that a nine-year-old boy couldn’t possibly possess was also, somehow, making itself known soon after and in stunning detail. Yes, there were  _explanations_  now, and he’d find a way for science to explain them all no matter what.  Tony had a reason to live now!

 

 **Given Phase# Database**  : 0.000008385m-x

 **Dominant Race:**  Anti-Existence

 **Average Rank:**  Class F

 **Average MaximumPotential Output and/or Power and Capabilities:**  42.5%.

 **Average Minimum Potential Output and/or Power and Capabilities:**  34.2%.

 **Factor 1;Most Common Dweller of Phase# 0.000008385m-x:**  Tormentor, Subdivision C, Subspecies A. Rank: Class F

 **Factor 2;Second Most Common Dweller of Phase# 0.000008385m-x** : NaveliX, Subspecies A. Rank: Class F

 **Factor 3; Realm Stability Holder: Boss Core of Phase# 0.000008385m-x** : GabriEV Core, Subspecies D, Rank: Class D

 **Ratio of Phase# 0.000008385m-x Population; Factor 1 to Factor 2** : 213:103

 **Ratio of Phase# 0.000008385m-x Population; Factor 1 to Factor 2  to Factor 3** : 213:103:1

 **Total Number of Confirmed Hostiles:**  317

 ** _Documented weak points of Factor 1_** **:** Excessively weak to light.  In the case of no-easily accessible and/or create-able light sources, recommended exploitable areas include: all three upper eyes but only when Tri-Protective Layers are entirely closed, flammable muscle casings located exactly 2.5 cm under all-4-shoulder-joints. A uneven patch of red speckled, ridged, fleshy coverings amounting to 0.5% of entire upper body...

Phase... That was a good term for it. After enough times, Tony would start to refer to the phenomenon of ‘demons-fatally-wounded-by-light-are-now carving enough of their dark into the world full of light, around an unsuspecting-soon-to-be-mealticket until they had their meal fully covered in dark so as to be snatched and firmly caged’ as phasing.

 

* * *

 

 

 

*A lot of years later*

 

Okay, really now, this was simply  _not fair_!  Tony wasn’t exactly in a hurry, sure, but that didn’t stop this current bout of phasing from _pissing him the fuck off_!  Just  _once_  he’d like to have his most recent Iron Man suit on for this. JUST ONCE!  Was that really too much to ask?  And WHY could he still not figure out when and where they would phase him after all these years?! 

After all, Tony was 85% sure that the majority of the Dwellers whose sole job it  _was_  to phase him in the first place, weren’t any smarter than the average monkey, and yes monkeys were smart, for, well,  _monkeys, but the last time_ Tony had checked that still counted as: not a fucking genius!  (Note that the percentage does not include the small number of Dwellers that solely existed for phasing normal people. The not-as-normal people that _couldn’t_  see the phasing veins.   _Those_  Dwellers were much dumber)

 

So how was he always so unprepared for when the bastards started trying to trap him in their disgusting little realms?  And what took them so long after each phase, anyway?  Sheesh.

 

And why were they still trying?! How many of the fuckers had he killed by now?  Oh wait, he  _knew_  how many, and it was a... kind of... large number... okay fine it wasn’t when thinking in terms of  _an entire_   _Race of beings_. There were probably lots of the little twerps still around and maybe Tony would never completely be able to exterminate them, but still...

 

But yeah... Iron Man + Bloody-power + Enhanced Senses + Regen ‘O Awesome + Database + Whatever = FUN AND AWESOME SAUCE.

Okay, he still hadn’t been able to figure out what to call his “power” even after all these years.  He would eventually find a scientific explanation for it, really... He  _would_.

 

His eyes got all red and glow-y and shit and then blood became a playground, like really, he could  _play_ with it and make things with it and also explode things and it was fun. And the things he made with it were really freaking hard to break, which  _still_  made no sense, but whatever, figuring it out was a work in progress! (A part of him was still tempted to see if he could break Cap’s Shield with a knife made of the not-blood-stuff or something, but every time that it suddenly seemed like a  _good idea_  to try, Tony rammed into a brick wall of  _logic_  and  _common sense_  and then it went back to being a  _bad idea_.  Common sense and Logic were AWESOME, yes, but in just this one scenario they were kind of a killjoy...)

 

Captain America needed his shield to save lives. Therefore by extension Iron Man needed Captain America to have his shield. 

What was he... oh right, they were phasing him.  Maybe he should walk faster.  Not like it made much difference. The Dwellers that were in charge of phasing, were, again, not that smart.  It never occurred to them that they could go after the people around Tony and use their safety against him.  There was still a possibility they’d get smarter, but Tony already had plans in place just in case it ever actually happened to innocents around him while Tony was a target. Tony wasn’t much of a hero, but innocents being hurt because some supernatural freaks were still after him was  _not acceptable_.

 

Anyway. Phasing.

A few quick scans, and now Tony was 99.5% sure that there weren’t any people he’d run into in this building, which was awesome, and convenient. It was VERY late at night so that was also part of it. Sometimes, as much as he hated to admit it, a new AE variant would suddenly make itself known after the phase completed, usually in groups, and Tony would be a physical wreck and promptly collapse. The events in phasing lasted a while depending on how many Dwellers needed to be killed and how Strong the Core Holder was. Sometimes it took twenty to thirty minutes, other times it took  _hours_. No matter how long the bouts lasted, Only one second of Earth-time ever actually passed. That too, would have a fully-documented scientific explanation.... eventually!

 

But really it was all stupid. So now...

1 1/2 years = 1 Second?

3 hours = 1 second?

 

Stupid world! Stupid other worlds! Stupid impossibilities! Fucking demons...

 

Oh, right. Still getting phased...  What the bloody hell was taking them so long? If Dwellers ever get fired from work than these ones certainly deserve—

 

\---and thought fled as Tony jerked himself away from the wall to his right, ( _Hey!  That’s cheating!  I’m not even fully phased yet_!) away from the clawed hand that materialized through it to tear at his throat. Tony lunged forward, rolling over two more of its spindly meter-long appendages that had swiped at his feet through the wall. Flecks of red ectoplasm and acrid black smoke splattered and flickered a thin, blinking trail along the wall that the limbs protruded from.  The paint blackened and crackled from the energy.

 

He then abruptly let himself drop to the dusty wood floor to avoid the snapping jaws of a thrice-split fleshy head and its triple rows of needle-teeth.  Its eyeless holes were alight with oily fire and the thing screeched at him, its grasping claws finally taking hold of Tony’s head.

Okay, there wasn’t much of a flow but it still had blood in it. Tony concentrated, his eyes flaring red, and the blood of the thing’s wrists and hands responded in kind.  Thrumming and hot and sticky and now moving as Tony willed it to.

 

And he  _willed_  it to leave the flesh of that thing’s hands and wrists with an explosive jerk outward. The hands holding Tony’s head and readying to gouge eyes suddenly bulged and popped, exploding.

 

Most Dwellers had no bones to speak of at least if the data that Tony had gathered by now was anything to go by, and that was a  _lot_  of data.... Anything that was severed from the creatures, whatever they were, dissolved into particles bit by bit until there was no trace of what had been there. That included their blood too. Tony and the walls would be clean enough in a few minutes, yes, but that still didn’t keep Tony from wanting to have a shower right then... Ew.

 

He crushed the thing’s skull with a clap of his hands soon after and its remaining body flopped wetly to the wood, limbs severed, splayed and dissolving along with the rest of it. The hand gestures weren’t really necessary but sometimes it made it a bit easier for Tony to manipulate and concentrate on what he wanted to happen.

 

The next few minutes were a rush of nothing but instinct and adrenaline.  Dwellers he had never seen before were appearing left and right and Tony had no time for thought. (Okay, maybe he had time for another thought of, ‘ _you fucking cheaters_!’)

 

A few more iterations of the ‘Long Arms’ variant also made a comeback.Tony had nicknamed them after enough data had proved that they had become a staple in “Typical Dweller Phase Population Percent Chance” and as per usual he was right, Tony had encountered them several times over the years up to, and including, now.

 

There were lots of new variants and at  _least_  two variants that Tony had never  _seen before_. All things considered he was managing somehow...

 

Until he suddenly wasn’t.

 

Because suddenly there was a  _very human_  male attacking him. No,  _attacking_  wasn’t the right word, trying to’  _fucking kill him and nearly succeeding every fucking second’_  fit the situation better.

 

“Who the—“

 

_Shit!_

 

Tony flipped backward, simultaneously avoiding a human-wielded-slash that would have cut something major, alongside a massive-maw-full-of-teeth coming up  _through the floor_ that had just been beneath him a half- _second ago and would have most_ definitely torn him in half.

 

“Why the hell are you attacking  _me_ and not  _them_!?” Okay, that definitely connected and Tony knew it would need stitches... Oh wait, the Regen. Right. It _might_  need stitches if he was still alive that long.  “It’s a fucking tank-sized floating-spider that can go through walls! What more reason do you even need?!”

 

_Oh, right. He can’t see them. Duh. Weren’t you supposed to be a genius? So.... What? He’s an assassin? Makes sense. What is it with assassins and black leather?_

 

A three-way-split-head of teeth went for the stranger’s back.  The stranger gutted it, whirled, thwacked off two limbs and its nasty head for good measure, and then was right back to attacking Tony as if dodging between Dwellers and trying to Kill Tony was the easiest thing in the world, never mind the fact that the guy could actually _see_  them!

 

Also:

 

_White and Shiny arm! Red star, Shiny...! and oh my God it’s gorgeous! I want to touch it! Okay, shit, that had been bad and you aren’t going to survive this much longer....Pay attention! You can ogle at it later when you aren’t dead and that guy isn’t dead, okay fuck it maybe I should just kill him---NO!_

Tony wasn’t sure why he reacted the way he had. The Phasers of the Dweller community had finally managed to completely phase them and the lights of Earth reality was promptly swapped with pitch-black-darkness . Even MORE new variants that Tony had never seen before were waiting in the wings of their realms, rushing in now that the Phasers had done their job and the threat of light was no longer there. Yes, Tony could see in the dark now. It was very convenient.

 

Anyway, Tony had long since passed the “You are our food” to these freaks and become “You have become too big a threat and we cannot allow you to live!” So yeah, odds were not good. Odds of surviving this had not been good even without the half-masked guy in black trying to kill him.

 

Letting the guy die would have been the more  _logical_  conclusion.  Tony Stark was already down to 50% odds of survival and that was never acceptable if he could help it. If he had to let the guy die right then and there his odds of survival would have jumped up to much,  _much_ safer numbers.

Tony had still acted on instinct and the odds plummeted even lower.

 

Tony didn’t regret it.  He hated killing.  Exception: killing Fucked-up monsters that tortured humans for food?  No biggie.  Killing  _them_ was fun.  Killing other humans? Not really something he liked doing. Tony did it often enough when it was a matter of national security, sure, but he didn’t enjoy it. He was crazy, sure, but liked to think he at least had most of his morals still at society-acceptable-levels. Shield hadn’t killed him off yet, so...

 

But yeah, Tony didn’t regret it. He especially didn’t regret it when he was rewarded with the sight of the Stranger’s first  _actual_ human emotion since the fight had begun.

 

Anyway, Tony liked to call it the Red Bubble, because really it was made of his own blood and blood was red, and, well, it was a  _bubble_. It was mostly semi-translucent and it was also completely surrounding the stranger. The bubble was also freaking strong and had kept the various bladed claws and gaping teeth away from the Stranger’s vitals. The man now looked at Tony, stunned, uncomprehending, looking as if Tony had grown another head and sprouted a tail just to  _spite_  him.

 

 Tony had placed a Red Bubble around himself too, but it was weaker because Tony was getting weaker, and so a few of the ghastly looking faces were managing to get a few teeth and claws through his Bubble Shield Thingy. It was a bubble that stuck, it moved with him so at least there was  _one_  advantage: A moving shield that covers all angles of attack and  you don’t even have to think about it, well, Tony kind of had to concentrate to keep them active but, close enough.

_Crowd control is key. Thin the crowd as much as you can...._

 

The problem was that Tony only had ever had to keep it active on himself.  He had never had to keep it active on  _another person_  as well. Tony was losing too much blood and the numbers were dropping even lower.

It really wasn’t fair.  He had blood-power!  He should totally have infinite blood too...  It was only fair...

 

Adrenaline, reflexes, and muscle memory took over for a bit because thinking was becoming hard and so his body automatically went into overdrive for demon-slaying and supernatural self-defense. More time passed. The Dweller numbers were thinning. The Stranger wasn’t actively trying to kill him anymore, so that was a plus... Damn it, Tony had to  _fight_ to keep his vision from blurring now. And the other Guy’s bubble was flickering... Damn...

 

The stranger was suddenly there, in his face, yanking him back and away from a scythe-claw-arm-thingy angling at Tony’s head. Tony’s bubble had shattered. The Dweller numbers had thinned even more. At least Tony could focus on the stranger’s bubble without too much conflicting logic, because at least the guy was more focused on killing the nasty looking things.  Ah, and there was the Core making it’s entrance. A new variant. Because of course it was.  That seemed to be the theme of the night. Lots of new data today.  Too bad Tony wasn’t going to be alive long enough to analyze it.

 

The last bit he saw before his vision faded was a very large, glowing,  _thing_ hovering above him... it was just... suddenly  _there_ , keeping Dwellers from tearing Tony apart, while also tearing the _Dwellers_  apart when they tried to attack him.

Huh. Fancy that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. The events of Memoria went a bit different in this fic...  
> Chime was stupid and passed on her power still, but it got passed to TWO mortals in this fic. Not just one.  
> Bucky's got summoner powers because that rocks and I wanted it. He can summon things from other fandoms and it doesn't even have to make sense. It's awesome.  
> But yeah, just pull some powerful creatures you like and plug them into the two that he summoned in this chapter. What? I'm lazy, remember? :p  
> But yeah I'm definitely having him summon Thanatos and Skeith at some point because holy shit, awesomegasm!! *starts fangirling* *ahem*
> 
> Anyway, Tony's still inherited the Blood-powers. Nothing much is different there just that he's slightly more crazy in this fic because his stuck-in-Memoria stint happened when he was so young instead of after when he was a LOT older. Though I guess it could go the other way too... Hmm... I mean it wasn't 5 years this time...  
> Oh ho another fic I know I'm gonna have a blast writing.... *evil smile*


	2. Chapter 2

In hindsight it probably should have been embarrassing that it took so long to realize that he was actually conscious.

This was a starless, choking kind of night. The kind that only appeared in nightmares, when there was no sun to have ever existed, no electricity, no fire, nothing.

The kind of impossible darkness in which everything became darker when he _opened_ his eyes instead of when he closed them, supernatural eyesight be damned.

 

“Not again,” Tony whined. “Memoria _sucks_.”

 

**That statement is inaccurate. There are no vacuums here.**

“...Holy-shit-what-the-fuck!-“

 

Trying to fling yourself backward when you are already lying down on your back is not a particularly healthy idea. The worst of his wounds still ached now that he was conscious of his consciousness enough to feel them, but the current groaning whine coming out of his mouth was from having slammed his head back onto the ground.

 

Again in his defense, Tony was _used_ to the Dweller phases and their particular brand of inky blackness by now so of course he wasn’t going to flip out over it.

An insanely large, six-eyed floating bright pink _duck_ a few inches from his face on the other hand...

**How rude.**

No, Tony was _not_ gaping, “Yeah, hey sorry about that, Ma’am.  I totally see tank-sized pink floating alien ducks all the time. My bad.”

 

**How rude! I am a most distinguished gentleman, I’ll have you know!**

Still not gaping.

 

“How is this my life?” Tony reached a hand up to massage his temples. 

A string of Russian from his right had Tony craning his aching neck to look for the source.

**You think yours is bad?  Well how about being dragged out of your dame’s arms and into this god-forsaken icy blackness with one Hume unconscious and the other bitching about a failed mission over and over!** The pink duck’s feathers quickly fluttered, ruffled, and fluffed up as if to illustrate how cold he was.  A fluffy scattering of pink feathers littered the ground soon after.    **My dame is probably ruffletuft with worry! Send me home already you fool!**

 

Tony blew a few feathers off of his chin when the next bout of Russian echoed out.

 

**Killing people is NOT the proper conduct of a gentleman and certainly not a viable mission! You are a gentleman, sir!  Get your head out of your ass and act like one!**

Tony decided it was probably best not to remind the duck that most gentlemen that Tony knew of didn’t swear at others even when people like _Tony_ came around to make them wish they could.  Or maybe duck gentlemen had different standards?

 

Tony massaged his temples a bit more aggressively even though he figured the oncoming headache was unavoidable at this point.

 

“Wait... where did the other one go? You know... that glowy thing that protected me earlier?”

 

**I suppose he became fed up with this rude man as well.  I am a powerful gentleman, but sadly I do not possess the power required to break contract protocols.  Though it is more than enough to protect you, Good Sir. Do not fear.**

 

Huh.  Well that explained a lot.

No wonder the assassin hadn’t killed him yet.  Tony had been wondering about that.

 

“So I have you to thank for that?  Thanks for protecting me from him, man.”

 

**No thanks are necessary, Good Sir. I am only doing what this man asked for as per contract.**

 

Wait, what?

The duck had been called on to protect Tony?

There was also that mention of contract again...

 

The Russian man was a bit more frustrated and hoarse sounding this time. 

 

**Oh, don’t you give me that! The mission you originally gave was to protect this man and now that my predecessor left, that mission has defaulted to me. I AM doing my job, you dastardly duffard!**

...duffard?

 

At any rate, If that duck’s voice became anymore high pitched, Tony supposed his ears might start to bleed.

 

Tony grunted as he hoisted himself up and managed to sit without falling. “Okay, so... Maybe I can be of assistance. Could you ask him what his name is?”

 

 **He can hear and understand you just fine.** Several of the feathers above the top two eyes made way as if the duck were raising unimpressed eyebrows. 

 

“Huh.  Well, could you translate him for _me_ then?”

 

 _Note to self:  Learn Russian so you don’t need to ask pink ducks for help,_ Tony thought.

**If it will help me get home sooner to my Lady Lassling, then I don’t see why not.**

 

“Perfect! Okay, what’s your name?” Tony huffed in irritation at the man’s snort. “Yeah, no. That ain’t a name, smartass. Try again.”

 

The blank face contorted in anger, and now Tony was actively studying the man he realized the guy was kind of attractive even if he was a rolling mass of tension and homicidal tendencies.

 

**“The Asset.”**

“Riiight...  and what’s that?”

 

 **“The Asset is the Asset.”  What?  Don’t look at me.  That’s what he said.** The duck rolled all six eyes and shrugged.

 

“Okay, let’s start over.  My name is Tony Stark.  If someone were to ask me who I was I’d say ‘Tony Stark’.  Just like that.  So!  Who are you?”

 

**“The Asset.”**

 

Tony kind of wished Rogers were here. Even on one of his bad days, Captain America was a lot more patient then Tony Stark would ever be.

 

“Who am I?”

 

**“My mission.”**

Wait wait... time out. If his mission was to kill him then first of all: why had he summoned a pink duck to protect him?

Two: How the fuck had he even summoned a pink duck to begin with?!

 

And...  most of important of all:

 

“Look, it’s not rocket science. If you accidentally sent for an alien bodyguard to protect your mission from you then why the hell not just send back the bodyguard to alien land. Your obstacle will be back home in his happy space and you’ll be free to continue your mission.”

 

The expression on his would-be assassin’s face would kind of be hilarious if it suddenly weren’t so terrifying.

 

The Pink Duck and his high-pitched objections quickly vanished.

 

Tony Stark was not suicidal.

But really, now... you can’t discover such glaring logic and then _not_ point it out!  Priorities, man...

 

Hurray for Red Bubbles or otherwise Tony would have been gutted a few seconds ago.

 

“Oh come on!  Can’t we talk about this?”

 

It didn’t really feel like dodging as Tony ducked and weaved away from pointy knives because it _really_ wasn’t.  This guy was insanely fast and the knives _were_ meeting their intended target, it was just shielded by Red Bubble. 

Tony was wondering what had taken so long for one part of many parts of his rapidly derailing trains of thought to catch up and point out that he was now actually becoming scared that he was going to lose his life.

 

He really, really wished he could regret saving this guy too but he _couldn’t_ manage that even when he knew the guy was going to succeed, and that was just so unfair!

He didn’t regret it.

 

But he _was_ going to regret killing the guy now even if it was self defense.

 

Dammit...

 

“You know, sometimes when I’ve fallen really damn low I can’t help but _really_ fucking envy guys like you that don’t have a conscience,” Tony sighed. “Must be nice.” 

 

_Suck it up Stark. Kill or be killed._

 

 

Two things happened at once: 

 

The assassin choked on a scream as Tony gathered up the blood around his beating heart and then _squeezed_.

Then a flaming wraith with teeth the size of baseballs was streaking towards Tony’s face.

 

\----

 

 

It took a long time for Tony to open his eyes but once he managed to he quickly hissed and jammed them back shut.

He was back in that hallway of the office building.

 

That had not been fun...

 

Tony frowned.  It had certainly taken long enough for that phase to fade too...

 

Hmm...

 

 **Given Phase# Database**  : 0.000010750m-f

 **Dominant Race:**  Anti-Existence

 **Average Rank:**  Class A

 **Average MaximumPotential Output and/or Power and Capabilities:**  72.1%.

 **Average Minimum Potential Output and/or Power and Capabilities:**  60.2%.

 **Factor 1;Most Common Dweller of Phase#** **0.000010750m-f **:****  Tormentor, Subdivision F-9, Subspecies B. Rank: Class B

 **Factor 2;Second Most Common Dweller of Phase** **#** **0.000010750m-f** : NyovZ, Subspecies F-A. Rank: Class A

 **Factor 3; Realm Stability Holder: Boss Core of Phase#** **0.000010750m-f** : SevieX Core, Subspecies 1, Rank: Class 5

 **Ratio of Phase#** **0.000010750m-f** **Population; Factor 1 to Factor 2** : 300:1212

 **Ratio of Phase#** **0.000010750m-f **Population; Factor 1 to Factor 2  to Factor 3**** : 300:1212:1

 **Total Number of Confirmed Hostiles:**  1,514

 

 

Ah...  That explained it.  Phases with higher ranked Core Holders took longer to dissolve.

 

Tony laughed and rolled his eyes as he looked at more data strands.  The phasing process had taken more than a half a minute.  36 seconds to be precise.  Damn lazy bastards.

 

So...

 

It had been around 3 AM when the phasing had completed. If Tony looked at a clock it would probably be 3 AM still since phasing sucks and makes no sense at all.

Groaning through a ton of tiny aches and pains that made themselves known, Tony worked himself to his feet.  He rubbed his eyes and then cursed.  Damn, he had almost forgotten he still had a corpse to clean up...

 

The assassin lay in a sprawled, blood-covered heap a few steps away.

 

It’d be easy to chalk up the most recent events up to magic or some other bullshit, but the mention of a contract from the beak of a floating _pink duck_ was still rolling around his brain making a nuisance of itself. 

That ghost with big teeth hadn’t been able to get past the Red Bubble... and yet Tony’s head still felt like several trains were still choo-chooing around inside and crashing into themselves.

 

Tony still _had_ a head so his reflexes must have saved him again.

That thing didn’t have blood in it, but it was easy enough to improvise with a makeshift bubble to cover then crush and explode it with.

 

Right then, enough stalling...

 

Out of habit Tony went to check for a pulse and quickly found himself being grabbed, flipped, and manhandled instead.

 

Fucking hell!  Well, of _course_ he was still alive! This day was officially a horrible day and he would never ever speak of it again.

Tony reached out for the guy’s heart again, but fuck this... maybe he should just say to hell with a clean kill and explode the guy instead.  Dry cleaners and bribes or something...  No... fuck.. Shield was dumb but they weren’t _that_ dumb were they?

 

“Who... where am I?  Who the hell are you?” The last bit was accented with impossibly strong hands squeezing more pain out of his pinned limbs.

 

“Agh, get off me al—urk!”

 

Right, he was strangling Tony now.

Snapped neck... fuck!  Snapped neck incoming!

 

Think fast... maybe the eyes would give him a few seconds....   Shit... _shit!_

 

Except the pressure suddenly vanished and after a few minutes of wheezing in lungfulls of air, Tony finally righted himself enough to see that the man had flung himself backwards and was now hunched over and trembling violently.

 

“Where... where is this? Why am I here?”

 

“That’s... uh...”

 

The man flinched at the sound of Tony’s voice.

 

Now the guy was sobbing in Russian...

 

Well then....

 

This... this was just fucking _peachy_.

 

Tony sighed.

 

What was he supposed to do now?


End file.
